Tag: poetry

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We’re Millennials Remember?

We’re millennials remember?
No strings attached.
Just an air of attraction,
Etching us in.
Pulling us closer,
until we’re skin to skin,
Chest to chest.
Whatever this is, I feel it within.
You’ll hold me in your arms,
And I’ll never say,
That everyday is a good day,
As long as you’re on my mind.
And you are.
In the mornings, at night,
And every hour in between.
But my lips must remain silent.
My back must stay turned on the possibilities.
Tempting as it may be,
I must be void of all emotional responsibilities,
Potential insecurities.
The idea of the idea,
The possibility of the possibility.
Because like I said,
We are millennial, remember?
It’s a culture,
We both gotta stay woke.

A.

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Unspoken Requests.

Hold me close and teach me how to count to 10 one more time
Like you taught me to heal,
From pain in its prime.
Like you taught me to crawl,
Through my heart break and into my soul
Withholding the release of my salty waterfall.
So I hold back my tears,
For as long as is required.
While my heart grows weary and my eyes become tired,
I beg of you to hold my hands one last time,
Just teach me how to cross my t’s and dot my i’s.

A.

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How Long Is He Staying?

You prepare a banquet within yourself
For these men to attend.
Still, I don’t judge you,
I am not here to pretend
Like these aren’t mistakes we’ve all made
Or the pathway to redemption is clear as day.
They do not deserve you,
Not in this way.
And I know it’s tempting to argue
Because he was better than the previous
But aren’t they all still so devious?
Haven’t they all been so pretentious?
It kills me to watch you starve yourself,
Just to quench his thirst
While you put his selfish desires first
Failing to reconsider
Your reasons for wanting to be thinner,
Shorter, funnier, more of a looker.
Yes! He is physically here
But my love,
How long is he staying?

A.

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I Write Poetry. 

I lie in bed and write poetry all day
It’s a secret, don’t tell anyone, don’t let word stray.
Sometimes it’s my reality and other times, it’s my deepest fears
But I can’t confess to my forbidden lover really existing or ever wanting to drown in my own bucket of tears.
Please don’t ask me what’s true and what’s fake,
I may curl up and fall apart in my own dismay, until my eyes begin to ache.

I stand in the shower and create lyrical poetry
That’s how I get through 10 minutes trapped in that tiny tiled dungeon –
The only way I can express my fears openly.
I try to look for similarities between the water engulfing my frail physical frame,
And the fear that overcame me the last time I called out his name.
Please don’t ask what happens when I forget parts of the poetry I created in that moment,
I may end up trembling with fear and never get the courage to put words on paper again.

I lie back in bed and attend to my half written works of art all night long
There are so many incomplete pieces, so many incomplete songs.
The type I can’t sing out loud,
It’s my own creation, shouldn’t I be proud?
My mind harbours chunks of incomplete prose,
Multiple unfinished thoughts.
Please don’t ask me why I can’t finish those,
I may end up with a heart beating fast and my stomach all tied up in knots.

A.

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Will You Remember?

Will you remember the smile across her face in the midst of adversities?
The curve of her lips,
Not half as wide as the curve on those hips.
The sad wrinkles at the corners of those eyes,
How special it must have felt knowing only you knew that these were all lies.
Will you recall those memorable maladroit movements when she tried to dance?
Like this was a competition, like the world was her prize?

Will you remember every arched back and rolled back eyes?
Those interactions that only required gasps and quivers
Inner jokes which started with one but ended with two fingers.
Moments where she was so overwhelmed, all she could do was stutter
Will you search through foul memories?
Like it were a fantasy, like it were fiction?

Will you remember to laugh at every turn and every corner?
The illusion that in your next lives you were going to be New Yorkers.
While thinking about the story behind every spot and every hideout
Will you promise to laugh like things were normal, like things were safe
Like an adventure wasn’t what this was all about?

Will you remember me?

A.

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I’m Laughing Now.

I can’t help but laugh
At those who ridiculed the person that I was
And the woman that I had grown to become
Who tried to change me
Cut and paste traits unique to me
Like I was just words on a piece of paper waiting to be edited, reviewed and approved by individuals who didn’t deserve to experience the joy that I radiate
Or deserve to admire the art that I create.

I laugh because I see these same people go through life
Looking for pieces of me that they had tried to cut out
In every girlfriend, every partner, every potential wife
Like the world was populated with varying versions of me
And our sole purpose was to be attracted to a caliber of men who never learned how to love us genuinely.

I am deeply humoured
But my heart bleeds
For the women who would never live up to my standards
Because as beautiful as you are, you would never look like me
And you too are brilliant but, you would never have wit like mine
Never ever would you speak with the same rhythm
Or laugh out loud and think damn I sound just like her
Your touch would never be reminiscent of mine
And when you move, our silhouettes would never be superimposed. 

I am hurt because you would have to pass through the same hell that I did
And experience the same pain that I did
You too would be ridiculed and forced to conform
To rules that you don’t live by in the name of love
I just pray that you grow to believe that are enough
You are beautiful, you are strong
You are as perfect and as whole as you need to be for the one who is deserving
Most of all, I pray you make it out alive. 

A.

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Why Are You Not Emotional?

There’s pain that cannot be relieved with tears,
And lost confidence that cannot be reestablished with words.
Anger that cannot be quenched with a smile,
And depression that cannot fade away with a hug.
But most of all, problems that emotions cannot logically solve.

I don’t want to feel these.

A.

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Thank You. 

Here’s a thank you note,
From me to you.
I could explain with a handful of quotes,
But I opted for something raw and true.

You accepted me in my weakest moments,
Saw the hurt in my eyes,
An ugly reflection showing years of endless torment,
And you came close to empathise.

You held my hand through this anger and pain filled journey,
Picked me up.
Reassured me on the days where I’d worry.
Helped me see through my half empty cup.

Ran towards me when I tried to walk away,
Reminding me of optimism,
To hope for a better today.
Thank you for being a reason.

A.

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It Wasn’t You. 

If I wasn’t so proud
I would get on my knees
Fall face flat on the ground
Reciting varied versions of apologies
Not for stepping out but stepping into holy matrimony
For laughing, for smiling
For performing forbidden rituals with my spirit at ease
And I apologise to the thousandth degree.

– it wasn’t you, it was us, it was me.

A.

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You.

You are my 3am thoughts,
My midnight fantasies, 6pm concerns,
And the reason for my stomach knots.
In your departure, I await your return,
not because of lust or comfortability,
But pure amicability.

You are my Saturday night live,
My Sunday’s rest,
And my incentive to thrive.
The reason I feel blessed,
Motivated, Assertive,
Worth the while, attractive.

You are my tamed imaginations,
And my wild thoughts.
A special creation,
From our Saviour’s precious mould
You are gold,
Diamond, riches untold.

And if this is all I get
In this life of sin,
Then it’s the one thing I won’t forget
One piece of memory that’ll remain within.

Me.

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